Learning to Breathe
by paperheart27
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle, everyone must deal with their own personal grief. In the end, though, all you can do is learn to breathe again. Harry and Ginny have to find a way to create a new future for themselves out of the pain of the past.


Okay, I saw the first part of deathly hallows last night and really liked it. For some reason, it made me think about the end though and how I would react if my brother died which brought on this story. I have no idea if it will ring true to anyone else but it does to me. Hopefully you guys like it, I'm also planning on developing it into a whole Harry/Ginny story so stay tuned!

Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Harry Potter or any other characters, this is strictly for my own (and hopefully others) enjoyment.

Everything was over. Really over. There would be no more fear, no more panic, no more violence. No more death. The great hall was pandemonium as hundreds of people processed the news. Harry Potter, the chosen one, the golden boy, did it.

He was dead. He wasn't ever coming back.

The double meaning of her errant thought took Ginny's breath away. She could still see the crowd cheering and crying and hugging around that vile, evil form. Yet here she was again, staring at the frozen face of her erratic, loving and joyful brother, the shadow of a laugh still etched on his immobile face.

Dead. Fred was Dead.

A harsh gasping sound echoed dimly in her head. The sound of another loss, of someone else's pain. She wished she could reach out to that other woman who stood apart with her. But this pain was isolating. She was separate, alone. She wished she could bare this better. Her mother would need her to be stronger. George would need her to be stronger. She would allow herself this one minute, this second of weakness. Then she would be strong again, she would be Ginny Weasley again.

Her breath was coming in shattering gasps now, scraping her throat with it's fire. Her heart pounded in her ears until all she could hear was a dull roar, the sound of the crowd reduced to ambient noise. This was too hard. Too much. She knew that she was holding onto her control by an inch. One mistake and she would lose it. Her knees were like rubber as they gave out, cracking painfully against the floor. It didn't matter, the pain was nothing compared to the open flame devouring her from the inside out, compared to the hole that had suddenly been punched through her chest. In a moment she would be standing again; in a second she would be a pillar for her family to cling to. But for now she would give in to this helpless oblivion. Now when everyone was occupied with victory, she would dive head first into this chasm. Her resolve broke, her control was gone and she gave herself to it.

Irrationally, she was angry. Angry at Fred for leaving her, for what he was going to do to George, to her mother, to everyone who knew him. Angry at Fred for who he was, the type of man who would jump into a fight. She was angry at him for being brave, for being true, for not being a coward. If he had been a coward he would have spared them all this pain. She was angry at the world in which a twenty year old boy knew war. Angry with a world where inequality had to be fought against, angry that there had been an "us" and a "them". Most of all she was angry with the life he hadn't had for abandoning him. His future should have fought harder for him. She was angry with the children and grandchildren he would never know for leaving him unfulfilled. Angry at them for not caring that her brother would have been the best dad in the world, the truest, most loyal confidant. They had abandoned him just as he had abandoned her.

She wasn't making any sense, she knew. Dimly, she was aware that he had died for what was right and true. He had died with a smile on his face, he was happy with his decision. The only problem was that he didn't have to live with the pain.

She was unprepared for the wave of despair, the crash of absolute, desperate longing for her big brother, her protector and her friend. Every memory of him slammed into her relentlessly as if she was caught drowning in the current. Fred teasing her, Fred helping her, Fred playing jokes, Fred laughing, Fred comforting her when she cried.

"Ginny"

"I'm fine" she responded automatically, standing at the sound of her mother's voice. It wasn't true. She wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to comfort, to support. She still needed too much of that herself. None of that mattered now though because someone needed her. And because she was Ginny Weasley, she would be strong.

'Keep it together.' she told herself as she turned to face her mother, registering Molly's pale and drained face. It wasn't fair. Parents weren't supposed to bury their children.

"Ginny, dear, will you go with Harry?" It was like struggling through freezing cold water just to answer her, to process thoughts. Harry? What about Harry?

"What d'you mean? Where is he going?" She could see him across the room with her family. He looked exhausted, like he was in danger of collapsing at any moment. In true Harry fashion however he seemed incapable of recognizing his own weakness. He was staring across at her.

"He wants to go to Grimauld place and... I can't have him be alone tonight." Ginny smiled slightly. Trust her mum to go into mothering mode as a defence mechanism. And because supporting others was Ginny's own defence, she knew in that moment that they understood one another. She would go because he needed her. She nodded and without a word Harry gave a sigh of relief and came to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and taking her with him to his godfather's home.

Ginny couldn't complain because at that moment she needed him to need her. Needed that strength of mind to cling to, to keep her from going under.

The kitchen of Grimauld place looked exactly the same from what she could remember of it. She shook her head, disoriented from the sudden change of scenery as Harry clasped her hand, leading her to the long kitchen table. Her eyes fixed on the long black burn the twins had put there, refusing to acknowledge the memory even as it danced in her head.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, letting go of her hand and gazing at her with an expression she couldn't fathom at the moment.

"what?" she asked dully, her eyes refusing to focus in the dim light of the kitchen. This didn't make any sense at all. She was supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around. She had to snap out of this. She needed to bustle, to move around the kitchen, to ignore this feeling with noise and movement and occupation. She stood quickly.

"Gin, sit down" Harry insisted, reminding her of those few precious moments in the corners of Hogwarts, those bright, sunny days when they belonged to each other. She shook her head to remove the memory. No need thinking of that now.

"Harry I'm supposed to be taking care of you." she made herself move towards the stove, fishing her wand out of her pocket and summoning a frying pan from somewhere in the depths of the cupboards.

"No, Ginny, I'm here to take care of you." He insisted, removing the frying pan from her hand cautiously as if she was going to hit him with it or something.

"Well I'm fine, Harry", she insisted, annoyed at his coddling. She was fine. He pointedly closed her shaking hands between his. 'Stupid hands' She thought as she glared at the treacherous limbs.

"Ginny" his words were soft, sympathetic with an anguish all their own. He cautiously cradled her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

She couldn't do this, not now. "Harry please, don't." she whispered, trying to keep her breathing under control. Breath in, breath out, no need to fall apart, no time to fall apart.

He paused for a moment, still clutching her hand gently, caressing it with his thumb in soothing circles.

"Please Harry" she whispered again, tears threatening to leak from between her closed eyelids. If he would just let her be busy, she could ignore this again, she could be strong.

"Gin, you'll always be safe with me." he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. "I can be strong for you"

And for the second time that day, she broke.

AN: ok, so I know it's fairly short and a little chaotic, but I really tried to put myself in her place, as difficult for me as that was (by this I mean that it was pretty upsetting to imagine that my brother was dead). Don't worry guys, it will not be this heavy the whole way through, that's part of the reason why this is so short.

Anyway, I really hope you like it. Please review telling me what you liked, didn't like and any suggestions for the story... keep in mind I have ideas in place but would love your input.

I'll give you all any kind of cupcake you want if you review!

loves from paperheart


End file.
